


Giftwrap

by bunnyrobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyrobot/pseuds/bunnyrobot
Summary: A present is received, a deal is made, and the gift will keep on giving for the foreseeable future...
Relationships: Overlord/Trepan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Giftwrap

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little self-indulgent and quick one-shot. As with most of the things I write, it's better to not think too hard about it!!

Overlord didn’t hang around with Sixshot and Black Shadow so often anymore, but if they were around, he made an exception for the Solstice. Some traditions never die, as they say. 

In hindsight, Overlord probably should have realized something was off when he opened the door to his quarters. After a long stretch of intense missions, he was whisked into the common area and immediately handed an enormous cube of glittery high grade. Usually the others wouldn’t have started the festivities without him. Certainly not while he’d been away for such an extended period. 

The two warriors elite took it upon themselves to decorate the place with shiny garlands which were draped strategically around the common room. They’d pinned up twinkling fairy lights on every wall. Overlord hadn’t known them to put such effort into the holiday in many, many, stellar-cycles. There were an excess of containers of iridescent shimmering pink energon in liquid and crystallized form on nearly every surface, half of them cracked open and sampled. He would have been more apt to kick the two revelers out if he hadn’t been feeling the effects of being so under-fueled and exhausted from the return trip. Overlord decided he needed the social boost and the less he groused about their celebration, the sooner the other two would get inevitably overcharged and pass out, after which he could get on his own recharge slab and do the same. 

This decision turned out to be an absolute mistake. Halfway into his fifth cube, intoxication slowly starting to settle in his tanks, Overlord noticed that the other phase sixers were continuing to nurse the same cubes of high grade as when he initially walked in. He set his optics and studied them with a neutral, almost bored look for awhile. 

The two were partway through the initial stages of a game of _Hax. A_ ridiculous game to play while getting overcharged, as it required strategy and strict concentration. Now that he was paying closer attention, he could see that over the side of the board, Sixshot and Black Shadow kept sharing—what could hardly be called inconspicuous—glances at each other. This was paired with a sort of gleeful mischief bouncing back and forth over their EM fields. Something that was not...not at all normal for these two. 

Overlord couldn’t stand it anymore. He slammed his cube down a little too hard on the counter, splashing energon onto the game pieces. Sixshot and Black Shadow looked up at him from their chairs, mouths agape. 

“What have you two done? Out with it already, I’m in no mood for games.” He growled.

Overlord quickly found himself flanked by Sixshot on his left arm and Black Shadow on his right before he could pick his drink back up.

“You’re so impatient, and not to mention _grouchy as frag_ , listen to yourself! We’ve just decided that we’re going to let you have it early!” scolded Sixshot. 

“Yeah, and we shh-pent quite a few credits on your present, probably too many, so don’t you dare be ungrateful, you aft.” slurred Black Shadow. 

_Present...?_

The two dragged him down the hallway to the door of his personal rooms, and while Blackshadow immediately released his arm, Sixshot nearly got elbowed in the helm when Overlord roughly shrugged him off. 

“I didn’t ask for anything, there’s been no exchange of gifts in—I don’t know how fragging long it’s been. Is this some kind of juvenile prank?” His tone was hardly laced with warning, thanks to the high grade. “Did you wrap my recharge room in holofoil or something?” 

“Just get in there. You’ll feel loads better after playing with your gift for a jour or two.” said Sixshot, slapping Overlord on the back with enough force to make him lurch forward. 

“You think it’ll take him that long? I give him ten kliks!” scoffed Black Shadow. 

The two scampered loudly back down the hall, cackling all the way, presumably to go back to their _Hax_ game and to drink even more. 

_Idiots_. 

Overlord vented deeply and shrugged, the cables in his shoulders further relaxed by the effects of high grade, before reaching out to input his door code. 

The habsuite appeared completely dark, save for a faint yellow glow coming from the cracked open door to the back room where his enormous recharge slab was located. Rolling his optics, Overlord stalked over to poke his helm through the doorway to investigate. 

Inside, laid out in the middle of his berth was a small orange, grey and cream-plated mech with a helm set with goggles. Not only that, but bound up with a ridiculous amount of...ribbon? The mech was restrained in such a way—though very aesthetically pleasing to Overlord in his overcharged state—that it was still quite obvious that he was not in the business of being presented in this kind of situation. This was no escort or companion for hire. 

Overlord watched him jolt and stiffen in surprise, finally noticing he was no longer alone. 

The copper painted mech began furiously cycling air through his vents, and started to struggle in his tight bonds as Overlord approached. 

When he got to the edge of the berth, golden optics shot daggers of contempt up at red ones which simply continued to further appraise with a silent interest.

Crimson ribbon criss-crossed over the mech’s chest plating, his spark chamber glass, his nipped in waist and between his modesty paneling in a neat pattern before ending in a tight pretty bow on his right hip. There was a separate length of ribbon that ran through the mech’s mouth and between the sharp antennae on either side of his helm which was fastened around the back in an additional bow, effectively gagging him. Overlord also noted that there was a vocalizer inhibitor attached to his neck cabling, which would explain the hissing and popping static. 

Further feeling the effects of imbibing, Overlord couldn’t stifle his systems picking up and audibly purring at the sight of this pretty gift. 

_Damn those two._

The bound mech wasn’t at all familiar to Overlord, but it sure looked like he was quickly forming a grudge. He glared up from his kneeling position, which Overlord found intensely amusing, and entirely arousing. A rather futile attempt was made to shrink away from the dark servo reaching up behind his helm. Overlord disconnected the vocal inhibitor, making fast work of crunching it into dust between two fingers. 

The mech stilled, optics wide, as his gag was swiftly tugged free from his mouth. He appeared to reset his vocalizer a few times before finally speaking. 

“I...I demand to be released immediately.”

“I don’t think you’re in the neighborhood to be making demands, sweet-spark.”

“If you don’t, Overlord, I’ll...I’ll...” the prior confidence seemed to rapidly drain from the small mech’s voice. “Wait, what are you doing?” 

Overlord had taken it upon himself to curl his form around the smaller mech and was already busy tracing the path of the ribbon from his collar and down to the ring of glass on his shuddering chest, swirling and circling a digit around the metal encasement in an idle fashion.

“So you do know who I am.” he commented quietly. “What’s your designation?” 

A frustrated huff. Overlord figured it was pretty mortifying being trussed up in bows and ribbons like this, so the reaction was certainly understandable. 

“You want to know my name? In all seriousness, do you really _honestly_ care?”

“It might help with your whole _genius_ plan to negotiate your escape.”

There was silence for half a klik. Overlord continued to tease along the circle of shiny metal.

“...Trepan.”

“Well, _Trepan_. I almost don’t want to untie you. You look absolutely breathtaking and ruining the effect would be bittersweet.” 

Trepan sputtered and Overlord could see the energon flooding in and coloring those creamy cheek-plates pink. There was an intense heat radiating off of him in waves. Overlord didn’t bother so much to seek out intimacy in a general sense, but there was definitely _something_ about this. Quite the compliment to see he was having this effect, despite everything. 

“It wouldn’t be like me, to return such a beautiful gift, anyway.”

## ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

This really wasn’t how Trepan thought he’d be spending the Solstice. If he were to go back in time, he would have gone to the annual fundraising banquet put on by the Institute instead of deciding to skip it. Lobe lectured him several solar-cycles earlier about being _antisocial_ and his _presence_ being good for morale and potential funding, but Trepan waved him off. He honestly looked forward to a break—a whole day alone in his quarters to catch up on reading some fascinating data pads he’d borrowed from one of his newest students. 

That had been the plan, anyway. 

Completely forgetting he ran out of energon and rations, he was forced to hit up the only convenience store open for the holiday. Unfortunately for Trepan, this store was in one of the shadier districts. Realizing far too late that he was being closely tailed by two enormous mechs, and in broad fragging daylight at that, he found himself clocked on the back of the helm and whisked off to...wherever he was now. Overlord’s home? Lair? Dungeon?

So much for a quiet and peaceful time alone. 

This whole slew of events was completely humiliating, and it didn’t help that Trepan’s systems weren’t exactly immune to what was transpiring. It was surely...possible that he might have a slight proclivity for being tied up and dominated. He might also entertain that it was possible he might have a slight preference for large war builds—how dangerous and imposing they appeared. And it’d been—Primus, it had been far too long since he’d had a partner. However...

Fragging Overlord. Why did it have to be _Overlord_? And an overcharged and aroused edition, at that. 

It would be a true Solstice miracle if he made it out of this without being beaten and/or torn apart component by component, if the reputation of the phase sixer rang true. 

Coming back to himself—feeling warmth brush his frame, Trepan’s optics shot downward, watching Overlord’s hand slowly move lower, this time delicately slipping a single finger underneath the ribbon, sliding along Trepan’s plating just under his spark chamber and lower—

“What’s in it for me, should I release you?”

Trepan jolted his attention back up to his face, so concentrated on how far Overlord would push the touching. His array was prompting him every few kliks to open his interface panel, though it was currently impossible with the ribbon binding his plating down. He made a conscious attempt to level out his venting and calm his systems. 

“They’ll send someone for me.” 

“Who will?”

“The Institute.”

“They won’t.”

Another indignant huff. 

“Fine. What do you want?” 

Overlord grinned wide, seemingly pleased that “negotiations” were open. 

“A favor for now, and a favor for later.”

“What kind of vague—you _really_ expect me to agree to such a thing?”

“I’m not sure you have much choice, unless you had something else in mind.”

Trepan held no illusions that there was any semblance of choice when dealing with the Point One Percenter, and was now internally kicking the slag out of himself for arguing in the first place. At least this way he could pretend he had some hand in the agreement. He might actually see another day after all. Biting his lip, he locked his gaze with those intense ruby optics. 

“A favor for now, a favor for later.” he repeated quietly. “In return for my release and safety, I accept.”

Trepan was about to ask what the “favor for now” would be but yelped in alarm as he was quickly turned into a prone position, an enormous servo heavily placed on his back, pinning him to the berth. His spark spun and flared in fear of what was to come next. 

“What are you doing—“

He felt venting near his bound wrists, heard a slight ripping noise and his servos were finally free. It appeared that Overlord had torn the ribbon with nothing save for his denta. The servo on his back was lifted and he was rolled over once more. Immediately Trepan’s hands flew to rub at the strained and sore cabling in his wrists. 

“It was about time I unwrapped you, don’t you think?” 

Trepan brought his servos up and covered his optics and cheek plates—still embarrassingly warm. Overlord swiftly pulled him upward and balanced him carefully in his lap. Trepan spread his fingers and peeked between them up at his smirking captor. 

“ _Trepan?_ ”

“What’s the favor for now?”

“To enjoy and be enjoyed.” Overlord’s gaze was fixated on the bow at his neck, slowly tugging the end of the red ribbon. 

Trepan blinked. The implication there was clear. He shuddered when he felt a searing wet lick under his right audial, and reached out instinctively to cling to Overlord’s chest plating. He was met with an appreciative rumbling and his own internal cooling fans kicked on. He silently cursed his frame’s continued betrayal—could he not be allowed any composure? Overlord certainly wasn’t making it easy, as his navy helm was already traveling down to press his lips along the seams of his shoulder, to the center of his collar, nudging under his chin plate, forcing his helm to tilt back and give himself further access to Trepan’s neck. 

“....A-And for later?”

“The other favor is that I get to keep you in reserve...for whenever I want, and for as long as I want.”

Trepan would wonder many, many solar cycles later if he subconsciously let himself be tricked like this. 

Overlord wound the ends of the untied ribbon around a servo and gave it a playful tug. He was going to have a wonderful time working Trepan up into the sweetest _release_. 

“ _You’re all mine now, and I’ll keep you safe._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta for making me feel better about this whole thing :'3c 
> 
> Sometimes I like to imagine Trepan is a little bit like Cheryl from Archer. Maybe not so extreme, but uh, y'know? Y'KNOW?
> 
> Also, apologies to Peacewish for lifting the name of the little game from TGWP. 
> 
> I'm still working bit by bit on my other fics but I have some roadblocks to get through so hopefully in the meantime this makes someone smile...or get excited...or...whatever! This was a challenge for me to do something complete and stand alone. How did I do?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and Happy Holidays!!


End file.
